


Catching

by helsinkibaby



Category: E Street (TV)
Genre: F/M, Het, Post Series, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-21
Updated: 2017-04-21
Packaged: 2018-10-22 08:16:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10693113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helsinkibaby/pseuds/helsinkibaby
Summary: Jo-Jo knows she's not a girly girl. But sometimes, she can be.





	Catching

**Author's Note:**

> For the Be The First Challenge on LiveJournal.  
> Also for the One Million Words weekend challenge - prompts used: Three things: a tin of fine soap a bath bomb a rock glass of whiskey

Jo-Jo knows she's the farthest thing from a girly girl that it's actually possible to be. A rock chick down to her biker boots, she likes her music loud, her beer cold and her men rough - and if they're a little in awe of her, well, so much the better. Well, when she says in awe, she really means afraid, but she's not going to quibble over semantics. 

So she knows that if anyone saw her now, relaxing in a bubble bath, hair piled high on top of her head, water and bubbles all the way up to her chin, they'd probably be giving her hell. And if they saw the glitter sparkled throughout the water, the legacy of the bath bomb that she'd indulged in, if they saw the tin of fine soap lying on the edge of the bath, they'd probably laugh out loud and she'd end up having to close her fists and threaten them to shut them the hell up. 

It is, she thinks, a measure of how relaxed she is that the idea doesn't make her clench her fists right here and now. 

Instead she smiles at the idea, takes the soap - tangled rose, it's called and yes, there had been jokes about her being a thorny rose but she'd been the one making them so it was fine - and dips it in the water, turns it around in her hands a few times before rubbing it on the wash cloth. Running the cloth over her body, she closes her eyes as the scent surrounds her, wishes that there was someone else here with her, his hands taking the place of hers. 

She smiles that that idea too - after all, the water is getting colder. 

It's a simple matter to towel herself off, to open the bathroom door and let a cloud of steam emerge into the bedroom, announcing her presence. When she walks in after it, a towel wrapped around her body, her eyes meet Valentine's and a different kind of smile crosses her lips. He's sitting up in bed and as he watches her, he raises the remote control to the television, clicks it off without even looking at it. There's a tilt to his lips, a look in his eyes that she knows all too well - even after all these years, Valentine is still a man of few words. With her though, he doesn't need to be - she can read him with a look, has always been able to. 

Then again, the look that's on his face now - she doesn't have to be an expert on Valentine to read it. 

Any time he turns that look on her - and it's a fairly regular occurrence - they're usually told to get a room. 

They usually do. 

She walks over to the bed and stands beside him. There's a glass of whiskey sitting on the bedside cabinet, one of the fancy ones that his radio station had given him as a parting gift when he moved back to Westside, engraved with two simple words "Dr Rock" and she's not going to lie, they do, in fact, make the whiskey taste better. Her fingers curl around the heavy crystal and she raises it to her lips, drains what's left inside of it, all without taking her eyes away from his. 

His eyes darken even as his lips curl. "Thief."

She cocks one eyebrow, replaces the glass and does a little shimmy to let her towel fall to the floor. One of his hands reaches up to her hip as if guided by a magnet and he half pulls her down as she doesn't fight him in the slightest. 

"I'm sure I can make it up to you," is all she says before he's kissing her and it seems like, not for the first time in their relationship, that this few words thing is catching.


End file.
